In Dreams, Chosen Hearts Series, Futuristic
by HDorothy
Summary: The Year 2009: Retired Major General Jack O'Neill's the happiest man in the universe, or is he?


Deaer readers: I originally wrote this as a standalone fic. Some readers have asked me to include it in the Chosen Hearts series. So here it is. As to whether or not there will be more to this story or it will stay in the Chosen Heart series is your decision. Feedback appreciated.

Title: In Dreams, Chosen Hearts series, Futuristic

Author: HailDorothy aka HDorothy

Category: Romance, humor, angst, hurt

Pairing: Sam/Jack – Well, maybe, sort of . . .

Spoilers: Season 1-9

Content Level: K+

Content Warning: Violence

Story Summary: Future Season, missing episode: Jack's the happiest man in the Universe, or is he?

To the Reader: This fic is based on a Season 9 promo photo of General Jack O'Neill in his Pentagon Office. I couldn't help but project. Don't zat me!

Song: '_In Dreams'_ Artist: Roy Orbison, ©1963. Words and Music by Roy Orbison

Archive: Jackfic, SAJ, Gateworld, Fan Fiction, my site: just ask.

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters and situations of this story are the property of said author. HailDorothy © 06-24-05

Beta Thanks: Carol Sue, what would I do without you? Wait don't answer that!

Feedback: Gosh, darn, don't make me beg! Pretty Please? Starvation of this writer's muse is no pleasant sight. All feedback is food for thought and well digested. "Feed me, Seymour!" (The Little Shop of Horrors)

**2009: Pentagon, Washington, DC:**

The radio dial set to an oldies channel played softly in the background.

"_A candy-colored clown they call the sandman Tiptoes to my room every night Just to sprinkle stardust and to whisper "Go to sleep, everything is all right_

"_I close my eyes then I drift away Into the magic night, I softly say A silent prayer like dreamers do Then I fall asleep to dream my dreams of you_

_"In dreams I walk with you In dreams I talk to you In dreams you're mine all the time We're together in dreams, in dreams_

"_But just before the dawn I awake and find you gone I can't help it, I can't help it if I cry I remember that you said goodbye_

"_Too bad it only seems It only happens in my dreams Only in dreams In beautiful dreams. . ."_

His fingertip pressed to his lips, Major General Jack O'Neill leaned with one elbow on the windowsill and stared out the white shades of his Pentagon office. It was a beautiful balmy summer afternoon and he was stuck inside—again. Still, he had no reason to complain. He'd never had a window at the SGC, never knew if there was a cloud in the sky. Even weirder, he didn't miss the old place like he imagined. Oh, he missed the friendly, familiar faces and chaotic hours. Heaven help him but he missed the daily adrenaline rush provided by the off world-on base activity. All things considered, nope, he didn't miss it, at all. True, he missed Daniel and Teal'c but saw them and Cassie regularly so that was doable.

Still, there were two people he missed most. Although, he'd just left them four hours ago, he felt his heartstrings twinge. It was good twinge, one he'd not experienced to this depth since Sara and Charlie. He felt thankful those old wounds had healed and that he'd been able to move on. Jack knew, without a doubt, he'd never have this blissful happiness were it not for one blue-eyed astrophysicist named Samantha Carter.

Here, eleven years later he only had to close his eyes to recapture the moment she had strode into the SGC and turned his world upside down. No woman, not even Sara had affected him as intensely as Captain Samantha Carter. It took years to admit that the instant their gazes locked, he'd fallen hard for her. Heck, he'd even forgotten to breath. Despite three regretful indiscretions by the names of Kynthia, Laira and Kerry he'd loved but two women his entire life, Sara being the first. Now Samantha Carter had him lock, stock and barrel, to death do us part, yada, yada.

Jack smiled, turned from the window and glanced from his leather chair to the polished expanse of mahogany. Empty. Nice. Coz, he couldn't do this any longer. Physically and emotionally, he couldn't afford too. Neither could Sam. They'd spent the last decade of their lives putting Earth and country first. No more.

Two years ago, Sam had resigned from SG-1 to head the SGC Physics Laboratory which allowed her to work from home three days a week. She spent less than sixteen hours a week on base. Lots of folks were surprised at her decision, not Jack. He'd always known that marriage and motherhood would change her priorities. It had.

With relaxed ease, Jack entered his private full bath and exchanged his dress blues for a mellow-yellow polo shirt and blue jeans. He rolled up the pants cuffs with precision accuracy and slipped into his worn, brown loafers. He'd almost tucked the shirt into his belted waist then refrained. A quick glance in the mirror made him shake his short-cropped silver head. Going Ancient four years ago had supplied perks. Physically and mentally he no longer aged like a normal man. He didn't look a day over fifty-two. Nice. Still he sometimes wondered what Sam saw in the old man staring back at him. He grinned, coz the last time he'd asked her, they'd conceived baby O'Neill number two.

Zipping up the garment bag for his dress blues, he draped the suit over his shoulder, snatched up his dress shoes and ambled back into his office. He dropped the shoes into his duffle bag alongside his briefcase, then pulled out his chair and sat down. A lone copy of Pentagon letterhead occupied his desktop. His formal resignation signed and dated by the Joint Chiefs of Staff and President Hayes stared back at him. _Retired Major General Jonathon James O'Neill. _Yeah, he'd really done it this time. A smirk tugged at his mouth. Photos and memorabilia that had provided the stark white office with personal warmth were packed up and waiting to be shipped.

Home.

He sniffed and scratched the bridge of his nose. Within six hours he'd be walking up his pastel chalked colored driveway, tripping over a hot pink tricycle and—Jack shook the ecstatic thought aside. Sometimes, he wondered if this was a regurgitated memory, and the next thing he'd feel was a Goa'uld pain stick jammed between his shoulder blades. He shuddered and shook free from the horrible revelry. Thank God, he'd never have to relive such torture again. Nor would Sam.

"Get a grip, old man. Be patient." He tapped his fingers against the desk's top.

He heard his secretary's cheerful voice outside his office. Punctual as always, he mused, and glanced at his watch. "Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty—"

A firm rap on his door.

"Enter," Jack ordered as casually as possible and glanced up from the uncluttered desk.

"Dada!" His curly brown haired daughter broke free from Sam's hand, raced around the desk and launched herself into his open lap.

"Hey there, luv of my life!" He laughed as she wiggled in his embrace and planted a sloppy kiss on his blue-shadowed jaw.

"Raz-bear-eez?" Grace's pudgy hands tugged her blouse up her belly and she leaned against Jack's face, wanting her dad's special kisses.

"Let's save those for when we get home? We'll even arm wrestle, okay?"

"K," she bobbed her head. "Mine dada." She possessively rumpled Jack's bed head hair with her hands as Sam closed the door with a weary smile.

"Hey, kiddo! It takes dada hours to perfect that hairstyle."

"In your dreams," Sam scoffed.

"D'oh! Teenagers pay big bucks for what I've naturally got." He pointed at his head.

"If you say so." Her hand on her extended tummy she waddled toward him, grinning.

"I do." Jack tugged Grace's shirt in place and reached into his left jean pocket. "Wanna play with dad's yoyo, Gracie?"

"Mine!" She nodded with a huge grin, giggled then settled cross-legged on his lap and unraveled the red, wooden yoyo that swung on a tattered worn string.

Meanwhile, Jack dug into his other pocket and pulled out a crumbled, Fruit Rollup wrapper, tore it in half and offered the smallest piece to his daughter.

"Mine!" She snatched it and jammed it in her small mouth, grinning at him with her large blue eyes.

"Mine." Jack mimicked and shoved the larger half between his lips. Fruit Rollups were an acquired taste and darn if he hadn't acquired one.

Grace giggled louder.

"You're supposed to teach her to share, Jack," Sam lectured none-too-seriously.

"Hey, we shared." He wagged his brows.

"I've yet to decide which one of you is the two-year old."

"At least I'm potty trained." He winked.

"Yeah, if you could just learn to put down the toilet seat." She leaned on the edge of the desk and pulled Grace's shoulder length hair from her pixie face, before it got tangled in her sticky mouth.

"Hey, I'm working on it." He offered her the remainder of his abused treat.

"Nope. Had my fill in the taxi." She grimaced.

"Sweet." He devoured the last chunk then glanced at his watch. "Um, better get to the airport, Babe." Standing, Jack jostled Grace in his arms before he kissed his wife. The moment their lips grazed, Jack remembered how passionately he loved this woman. A solid kick from Sam's protruding belly brought him back to reality.

"Huh umm, junior's slamming hockey pucks again," he murmured against her moist warm lips he didn't want to leave.

"Umm, tell me about it." She eased back and placed his splayed hand over her stomach to feel another round of jabs. "I swear there are twins in there, Jack."

"Nah ah!" He chuckled with warning. "No twins. You promised, Colonel."

"And you promised two years between conceptions, sir."

"Well, when have I ever done anything according to regs?"

"Exactly, and you so don't want to go there." She kissed his jaw and sighed through a smile.

"Well, I'm just saying. . ." He winked, pulling her closer with his free hand.

"Home!" Grace locked her short arms around their necks and babbled words they couldn't pronounce let alone understand.

"Okay, kiddo." Jack smiled at his anxious toddler. "Mom, Dad and you are going home to Colorado—for good." He snatched up his briefcase and dress blues. Sam grabbed the duffle bag to lighten his load.

He avoided her observant gaze and winced as he took one last look around.

"You're going to miss this?" She nibbled her lower lip with that adorable insecure look he loved.

"Are you kidding? Never! I'd rather be tortured by a Goa'uld." He chuckled as Grace wiggled from his hold to scoot around the floor with her arms extended like an airplane. Her independent nature in high form, she'd soon walk everywhere on her own. He'd miss carrying her, but his knees wouldn't. Besides, in two months he'd be bouncing another Carter-O'Neill creation on his lap. Their son. "Sam, I'm the happiest man in the Universe." He rubbed her rock-hard belly.

"And I'm the happiest woman." She linked her arm in his as he opened the door to the busy Pentagon corridor.

"C'mon," he grinned. "Let's go home, Mrs. O'Neill."

"Yeah sure ya betcha." She kissed his cheek then turned and looked at him seriously, "But first you must share all the knowledge and powers you have acquired as an Ancient, Jack."

"Huh?" He pulled back and gaped.

"Dada, you heard, Momma. Tell us everything!" His daughter sounded like a Goa'uld.

"Shit!" Jack stumbled against the open door and dropped his suit and briefcase. "This isn't real! Can't be?"

"Oh, it's quite real, Jack." Sam's eyes glowed and she spoke like a Goa'uld. "Now you will tell me everything or you will never go home to your wife and daughter."

"I can't tell you what I don't know!" he insisted as nausea and agonizing pain swept over him.

"Yes, you can. Besides you've no reason to return to home. She left you behind. Just like Sara did after Charlie died. Now, Samantha's gone and taken Grace with her and the baby—a boy, I think. Yes, I believe you named him Jonathon Jacob. Your mate deserted you and left you to die at our hands."

"No! She wouldn't do that!"

"Of course she would. Why would she want to spend her life with a broken old man like you?" Grace verbally spat in his face.

"Stop it!" Tears of remorse washed Jack's face. "You're lying! Sam loves me. So do you, Gracie! I love you both. They would never leave me!"

"Jack?" Sam's face morphed into Daniel, as did her voice.

"Danny?"

"So, that's how I feel about it, what do you think?"

"Huh?" Jack expected to see a bowl of Froot Loops in front of him, but didn't.

"Hey, Jack, I told them everything and look," his eyes glowed. "I don't need glasses anymore."

"You're not Daniel!"

"I am not." The linguist transformed into Teal'c. "Your perseverance is but futile. It would serve your best interest to divulge the Ancients knowledge, O'Neill," Teal'c said in his unsmiling fashion with hair.

"Go to hell!"

"All in good time, son." George Hammond wore a bright paisley shirt. "However, I've got more time than you do. We'll start over. Is that clear, General?"

"Over my rotting body!" Jack's backbone straightened when Hammond switched back into his wife. "Sam, you've got to fight this! I know you're in there!"

She vanished only to reappear several feet away, no longer pregnant. Frustrated and confused, Jack scrubbed a hand over his face as Grace toddled over to him. Her adorable freckled face altered into Baal's.

"You are retired Major General Jonathon J. O'Neill and you just resigned your commission as Head of Home World Security and –."

"Nooo—Not again!" Jack screamed and opened his light-sensitive eyes. His wrists painfully secured behind his back, he was on his injured knees onboard a Goa'uld's mother ship. This wasn't real! The Goa'uld had been defeated! Well, all but Baal! Crap!

He blinked through a burning haze of bloody sweat. His blood. His sweat. A Jaffa jammed a pain stick between his shoulder blades and his clenched jaw forced open to receive the blood of Sokar drenching his battered face and bared chest. Painful reality electrified every fiber-tissue and nerve of his tortured body.

_Dear, God, in Heaven! This isn't a dream! _

"_. . . In dreams I walk with you In dreams I talk to you In dreams you're mine all the time We're together in dreams, in dreams . . ."_

His fingertip pressed to his lips, Major General Jack O'Neill leaned with one elbow on the windowsill and stared contemplatively out the white shades of his Pentagon office . . .

'_Reality is but a perverse extension of our dreams.'_

**Fin? . . . Ya think!**


End file.
